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Frank
You pause, watching the cultists stream out, gathering around the corners of the square, and try hard to remember anything you know that might give you an edge... as you're clearly going to have to fight them if you stick around. You know that Kristianity is a very old religion... and many claim it's been twisted from its original roots and is no longer "valid". That's not very useful right here, though.

Looking about the square, you soon catch sight of exactly what you were looking for: a policeman, clad in a lightly-armored suit with a light helmet. You hurry over to him; he seems to be ordering some kind of fruit kebab from a vendor, chatting happily about his kids. "Hey - you need to look at this," you tell him urgently.

To the man's credit, he quickly turns toward you, dropping his former conversation immediately. He notices the crossbow over your shoulder and his eyebrows furrow; he opens his mouth to reprimand you, but before he does, he glances where you're pointing. It makes him pause for a moment. "What the..." he mouths... and then his eyes widen in realization. "Holy shit - Krad, get out of here - get these people out of here!" he shouts at the vendor, motioning hurriedly to you as he takes cover behind Krad's hard-backed market stall.

He hardly has time before gunfire erupts - and you certainly don't.

Bright flashes ring the square from all four corners as bolts of plasma sear through the air, hissing and whining - "EVERYONE DOWN!" you yell, even as you feel a searing sensation in your foot. Without looking to see what happened, you throw yourself on the ground, pulling out your crossbow and trying to load a bolt into it. Meanwhile, chaos reigns - people scream and flee almost in random directions, pushing and shoving - some of them directly toward the groups of cultists. One by one, people fall - four dead at least so far, and more wounded. You start to feel mildly panicked; your hands shake as you load your weapon, but to your credit, when you actually get to firing a shot, you manage to hit one of the cultists directly in the chest. He falls back, clutching at the end of the shaft.

Unfortunately, this gets the attention of the guy next to him, who responds by shooting you in the back. The pain is unbelievable - certainly more than you've ever experienced before - you cry out in agony and, completely panicked at this point, begin crawling toward the nearest cover - a solid bench at the edge of the plaza. It's not too long before you reach it - more people fall as you go - but you finally make it there. You hyperventilate; your hands shake so much that you can't even manage to load your crossbow.

This isn't real, right? Right??

The bloody trail you've left behind you seems to say otherwise. Can VR be this real??

((Your choice whether you're panicked. Normally this would be forced panic, but this is "just VR". Your choice how you roleplay this as well.))

Caleb
Calm and cool as ever thanks to your extensive military training, you scan your surroundings for good cover - and soon see what looks like a payphone booth near the edge of the square. The back on it looks... rather solid, if not impenetrable, but you'll take what you can get, jogging there quickly as you pull out your laspistol. You're not planning on letting them fire first, keeping a close eye.

Shouting erupts from nearby - a policeman, it seems - your new companion is talking to him, apparently. This seems to force the cultists to take action: they pull their weapons immediately and prepare to fire - but you don't let them fire first, pulling the trigger on your weapon.

Bright flashes ring the square from all four corners as bolts of plasma sear through the air, hissing and whining - "EVERYONE DOWN!" Frank yells, even as someone shoots Frank in the foot. You return fire on that particular cultist, hitting him in the chest - but it doesn't quite take the man down. Meanwhile, chaos reigns - people scream and flee almost in random directions, pushing and shoving - some of them directly toward the groups of cultists. One by one, people fall - four dead at least so far, and more wounded. You remind yourself that it's just a simulation, but you're calm anyway. Training goes a long way.

"Hey, you with him?" someone calls out from behind him. It's the cop you noticed earlier, and he's pointing at Frank... who is lying on the ground, shaking in fear. You shrug. The policeman nods grimly, cursing the situation under his breath. "I need to radio for backup," he says, firing another shot around the corner of the market stall he's hiding behind. "Cover for me, got it?" He puts his hand to his throat, pressing some sort of contact. "This is Officer Kinsey. Situation code 00803 - I need backup now!"

You turn and fire a couple more shots at another cultist, but he ducks behind cover, and you miss.

"Right," Kinsey says, "I'm at - one moment." He pauses, looking out from behind cover to look for a street sign. You can see it from where you are - you're at the corner of Panaxa and Keyte, Level 3. Of course... Kinsey never manages to radio back - a plasma bolt hits him dead center in his face, splattering blood and chunks of bone and gore out from the front of his helmet. His lifeless form falls back behind the market stall, the call unfinished. His radio seems undamaged, though... if you could use it, you might be able to get some backup yourself.

This situation got messy in a hurry. You currently seem to be a prime target - bolts whiz past every time you dare look out from behind cover. Frank seems to have attracted some attention too - he's lying flat on the ground behind a low bench in front of you that hardly provides him any cover, and seems to be a target that the cultists are particularly interested in - two of them are walking toward him, plasma weapons at the ready.

Well, this situation died and went to hell pretty fast. I hunker down for a moment. We need backup- and I mean need, otherwise these cultists will virtually finish what the bastards on Anba somehow failed to in reality. On the other hand- Frank is hit bad. Real bad. There's blood all over the damn place over there, and if the cultists have anything to say about it he won't be long for this digital world. Just to make the situation even better, it's clear he's hopelessly inexperienced and panicking. I then decide: we need backup, but it only helps if we're not dead when it gets here. "Frank!" I yell. "Stay calm- you're not gonna die! It's a simulation!" Of course, I leave out the fact that dying in the sim will still hurt like hell...I fire my electrorifle once each at the two cultists who are moving towards Frank, hoping to disorient them and disable their weapons.
I then fire my plasma rifle at them, focusing on the one that I can hit easiest.
If I disable the cultist with my first plasma shot:
-I switch targets and fire on the other cultist with my next shot.

Caleb
Switching to your electrorifle as quickly as you can, you fire at each of the cultists moving toward Frank. To your immense relief, each shot is solid; each enemy shudders for a moment, giving a strangled, pained cry as they shake and crumple to their knees, one after another, their eyes wide with surprise (and probably some amount of pain).

Shots continue to ring out all across the courtyard - the crowd is thinning as people realize that an attack is ongoing, and as their ranks are gradually thinned by the cultists. You see a man fall, his leg held together by ribbons of flesh, a woman running away before her skull practically explodes; her lifeless body falls, skidding and rolling on the ground for a few feet. It's a gory scene... but you're a soldier. It's not quite anything new, even if it wasn't a simulation. You switch to your plasma rifle, getting ready to fire on the two dazed cultists to finish them off - but you're finding it difficult to take the shot with all the heavy fire raining down on your location. It seems you're their biggest target right now.

Abruptly, a rift appears through one of the farther edges of the town, splitting the world in two; the edges shudder, warping and shifting against each other for a moment; one of the corpses seems to resurrect momentarily before falling again, and a phonebooth turns solid black and disappears. Just as suddenly, the anomaly vanishes, and everything is back to normal, leaving you wondering what the hell you just saw, as the sound of gunfire blares out across the speakers at a deafening volume.

Leaning out, you fire at one of the two cultists, missing as a few plasma shots whizz past, startling you. You make a second attempt, and this one also misses - but it gets worse. You see it coming: a plasma bolt crashes into your hand and gun from the side, causing your weapon to splinter with a short blast. For a few seconds, you feel numbed; you stare at the splattered gore on the side of the booth, and then the shredded flesh of your hand, splintered bones protruding into empty space as blood trickles out in spurts, splattering over the pavement. And then the pain sets in.

Feeling dizzy, you slump against the back of the booth, staring at the bloody stump in horror as you grasp your right arm tightly, shaking in silent agony.

((You're in shock - or, you would be if this wasn't VR. However, this is VR. What proceeds from here is your decision. You still have a good hand, after all.))

Frank
Frantically, panicked, you reach into your bolt quiver, pulling out a handful of tranquilizer bolts. You then peek up over the edge of the bench, panting in fear, and fling them wildly at one of the approaching cultists. They impact right in the center of the red cross - and then fall to the ground, not having done a thing. The man laughs and raises his weapon to fire at you. Just then, his comrade buckles, collapsing to the ground - and then he falls as well. You look over your shoulder behind, and see Caleb giving you a thumbs-up as he fades back into the shadows.

Hurriedly, you pull out your PDA from your robe, not bothering to question what it is or where it came from (it seems like you always knew), and begin flipping through the various commands, menus, and settings as you try to hack into the local loudspeakers. You're curled up behind the bench, flat on the ground, praying that nobody comes over to look at you as you focus on your objective. After some fair bit of difficulty, you manage. You finish up the hack by cranking out the loudspeakers in area to full volume, and play the sound of ballistic weaponry.

The effect is immediate and almost ear-shattering - the crack and rat-a-tat of gunfire fills the square and echoes through the nearby streets. People seem to get the idea and flee for their lives, while the cultists begin trying to shut the things up. You hear sirens screaming in the distance as well - it seems the law enforcement has taken the hint. Maybe you'll have a chance.

But for now, you need to get to cover.

Eyes tightly shut, half from pain and half from the fear of seeing... anything... you turn and begin to crawl toward Krad's market stall, gingerly avoiding the body of the policeman you talked to only moments before. A few of the terrorists try firing at you as you retreat - you hear the whizz of a plasma bolt over your head; one lands a short ways in front of you, flinging fragments of metal at the side of your face as you turn away instinctively. Then you just keep crawling. Something hits your left thigh - probably shrapnel, from the feel - but you don't dare to look.

Before long, you're huddled inside the market stall. You're bleeding out fast... you don't think you'll make it much longer. The chances of someone having seen you crawl here seem fairly high - if you're safe now, it won't be for long... but the screaming sirens seem to be getting ever closer, and you hear the distant sound of a hovercraft approaching... but the world is starting to fade; thinking is becoming steadily more difficult. You feel weak.

Oh, fukc, fukc, FUKC this hurts! Despite knowing that this is a simulation, I can already feel the shock beginning to set in- humans aren't designed to take quite this amount of punishment and keep on fighting. And this being VR doesn't change the fact that getting your hand blown off hurts like hell! I mean...that's my fukcing HAND! Or what's left of it...I stare at the incredible gore and hyperventilate, struggling to keep in mind my mantra of "It's not real, it's not real, it's not real..."

I sit there for a moment, trying to regain some semblance of calm. Once I do, I inject myself with painkillers, coagulant boosters, and antishock meds.

I shake myself. I tell myself that back on Anba, Sgt. Hadley didn't sit on his ass moping after they blew his foot off- he kept on fighting! A small voice in my head helpfully reminds me that he then got shot to pieces right afterwards, but I push that doubt to the back of my mind. Now that I'm reasonably clear-headed, I notice to my relief that the painkillers beginning to take effect.

I take out my laspistol, it being the only weapon I can actually use one-handed, and fire at the most dangerous cultist a maximum of 4 times, switching targets to the next-most dangerous if he is disabled.

Last edited by cuisinart8 on Fri Apr 14, 2017 11:12 am, edited 1 time in total.

*Whispering*
"Have to hold out. Have to hold out. Have to hold out. Need to-"Take a few deep breaths
"Have to take care of those wounds, have to defend position, have to escape."

Take another few deep breaths
Calm down as far as possible
Use first-aid kit and parts of my clothing/stuff lying around to stop the worst bleeding.
Use the camera of the PDA to scout the outsides.

If there are cultists coming my direction
-load sharp/solid bolt
-put second sharp/solid bolt next to me on the ground in easy-to-reach position
-shoot the first cultist trying to enter my hideout
-Stab second cultist in meelee with prepared second bolt

If no cultists come my way
-Check for the closest group of cultists with the PDA
-If there are alive civilists near the closest group of cultists
--search for hackable objects near the group with the PDA
-If there are no civilists around
--Load a sharp/explosive into the crossbow
--Mutter an apology
--Use the informations from the PDA's scouting to shoot the bolt blindly into the group of cultists

Caleb
"It's not real... it's not real, it's not real," you remind yourself, trying to calm down your hyperventilation. You manage, to a degree, and then pull your painkillers and coagulant boosters. You'd thought you had anti-shock meds... but apparently you didn't. You inject what you do have into an arm. It's only seconds before you feel it begin to take effect. Your arm's bleeding rapidly begins to slow.

You pause for a moment, thinking about Sgt. Hadley back on Anba, clearing your mind, and then switch to your laspistol before leaning out and getting a better view of the situation.

Above you, the sky grows dark; loose papers flutter across the ground as a police APC hovers above the square. The cultists get back into alleyways, taking cover, but you take potshots at them as they go. Your first shot misses, but your second, third, and fourth are excellent; you manage to blind one of the terrorists and kill the other - and that with a laspistol, by carving a gash into the side of his head. ((an amazing feat, to be sure.)) As you do, people begin to descend from the APC on ropes. Several land on the ground - one near Frank, in fact. You look out again at the cultists - just in time to see a bright flash and a streak of light that ascends to the sky. It impacts the APC with an incredible explosion, knocking out one of the engines, which goes up in thick, black smoke. Spinning and tumbling, and plunges to the ground with an ear-shattering crash, right in the center of the square, raising a choking cloud of smoke and dust that smells of blood, death, and fire.

All about you, you hear cries of the wounded and dying, the roaring of a fire, and a few scattered plasma shots. Through the smoke, a dark figure approaches - the shadow of a man, cast by what's left of the daylight.

Frank
You take a few deep breaths to calm yourself. "Have to take care of those wounds," you mutter, digging out your first aid kit. "Have to defend position... have to escape."

You empty the first aid kit, using every scrap of bandages you can find and every bit of medical knowledge you possess to patch your wounds and get yourself moving again. It's a lengthy process, but you feel quite better for it by the end. You're not going to be able to run a marathon - or even leap a hurdle - but at least you'll be able to get around.

A cultist approaches you - you see Caleb out of the corner of your eye, around the edge of the market stall you're hiding in, shooting at others, so you load up your crossbow, take aim, and fire. It grazes the guy, who turns his attention to you - along with that of his friends. You duck lower as hot plasma flies overhead... but then the plasma stops. Curious, you poke your head above the edge of the counter and realize that everyone is retreating - but why?

You soon learn the reason: above you, the sky grows dark; loose papers flutter across the ground as a police APC hovers above the square. The cultists get back into an alleyway to avoid being fired upon. You're having none of that, though: you reach back and try to load up a crossbow round - sharp/explosive - and fire - but the shot instead impacts on the side of a building with a short, sharp explosion.

Policemen begin to descend from the APC on ropes. Several land on the ground - one near you, in fact. He dashes over to you with a medkit, hunkering behind cover. "Hey, you look banged up pretty banged up," he says, kneeling next to you as he removes a canister of nanogel.

Just then, something explodes brightly in the sky above you. Looking up, you see that one of the APC's engines are on fire, having gone up in thick, black smoke. Spinning and tumbling, it plunges to the ground with an ear-shattering crash, right in the center of the square, raising a choking cloud of smoke and dust that smells of blood, death, and fire.

The medic lays sprawled on the ground near you, the contents of his kit scattered about on the ground. He moans weakly, a long, sharp piece of shrapnel half-embedded in the side of his head; a dark streak of blood trickles down from that and a dozen other tiny gashes as he rolls over.

All about you, you hear cries of the wounded and dying, the roaring of a fire, and a few scattered plasma shots. Through the smoke, a dark figure advances - the shadow of a man, with weapon at the ready.

Try to stand up and stagger outside, otherwise crawl out into view.
"Can't you just stop?? What do you even try to do here?? Mindless slaughter?? Conviction?? All those people for what?!?"

Move over to the medic, slump down and assess his wounds.
"Please! Just...stop!"
In general, just keep convincing them to stop the shooting and killing.
If the medic has a chance to survive with the application of the nanogel
-treat him with his supplies
Otherwise try to make his last moments less horrifying

((Well...there's only so much I can do in that condition...and most of that falls away due to lack of creativity Probably won't do changes to this one, last stand of a mentally exhausted cleaner.))

I watch in horror as the aircraft gets shot down. It figures that right when it looks like we'll get some support, it gets blown to hell. That'll show me for getting my hopes up. Fukc whatever sociopath made this sim, nothing can ever go right! Oh well, looks like this might be about it...
I feel a bit resigned- we may have failed, but we did take some of the bastards with us. A mysterious figure begins to walk towards us out of the smoke- undoubtedly the terrorists' leader. I'm rather unsurprised that he waited till now to show up- terrorists seem to have some pathological need to be as dramatic as possible as they shoot unarmed civilians in the face. Frank attempts to talk to him, and for once I don't try to just shoot the bastard. Yet. Maybe he'll say something interesting. Maybe if I stare at him he'll do a trick. Maybe I've lost a bit too much blood. Either way, I decide to see what happens before firing.I hunker behind my cover and watch the figure carefully. If he makes a move to attack us or a civilian, I attempt to shoot him with my laspistol, for all the good it would do.

Caleb
You hunker behind cover, watching the figure carefully as he walks closer, gun at the ready.

Suddenly, Frank, to your right, limps and crawls out of cover, waving his arms weakly. "Don't you have enough already?!?" he screams in wild despair. "Can't you just stop?? What do you even try to do here?? Mindless slaughter? Conviction? All those people, for what??"

But the man raises his hand, makes a signal for Frank to get down, and puts a finger to his lips. He continues to approach, half-crouched. Gunfire rings out behind him; reddish glowing blurs light up the smoke behind him as plasma bolts fly between survivors of the crash and the cultists.

"I'm a friend," he tells you; indeed, as he gets closer, you see he's wearing heavily-armored uniform. "You need to get these people out of here," he urges. "Just get them and g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-"

His words seem to freeze in his throat; his movement "stutters" and suddenly he's drifting forward. Suddenly you see everything clear as day through the smoke, as though layered on top of it - it lasts an instant before everything goes dark. The entire world abruptly ceases with a deafening silence and a sharp scream of static that marks the end of your existence.

Everything is gone.

Frank
You cry out, in wild, terrified despair. "Don't you have enough already?!?" The figure takes pause and readies his weapon; he looks around for you. You crawl, limp out from behind cover, waving your arms weakly to get his attention. "Can't you just stop?? What do you even try to do here?? Mindless slaughter? Conviction? All those people, for what??"

But the man raises his hand, and makes signal for you to get down, puts a finger to his lips. He continues to approach, half-crouched. You get the idea he's a friend and return your attention to the fallen medic without giving the man a second thought.

The medic's wounds are fairly severe, but he'll make it if he's given immediate medical attention. He's in bad shape - the shrapnel opened a major artery in his temple and something impacted his chest. The vest he's wearing caught the brunt of it, but one of his lungs have collapsed and he has multiple broken ribs. That's all you can tell from a glance. "It's going to be okay," you tell him; he hardly seems to hear you, his eyes focusing on some distant point as he blinks back tears. He can hardly move his left eyelid.

As quickly as you can, you generously apply nanogel to the piece of shrapnel, watching as the metal begins to dissolve in a bubbling foam as the nanobots force it out of the wound, sealing it shut. For them to have medical supplies like this, it's certainly a coreworld.

But he's still fading - you realize only too late that he must be bleeding internally. Without better medical equipment, there's only so much you can do for that... and not enough to save him. The man looks up at you gratefully anyway, shaking. He manages to form a single word: "Cold," he whispers through chattering teeth. You take his hand and squeeze it reassuringly. You don't know how to help. He tries to form another sentence - "I... I - I n-need -"

But the words seem to freeze in his throat, and he abruptly vanishes from view. The bloodspatters on the ground where he lay vibrate and disappear as well, and then the ground itself - it lasts an instant before everything goes dark. The entire world abruptly ceases with a deafening silence and a sharp scream of static that marks the end of your existence.

Everything is gone.
This tryout thread has come to an end. Its participants are once more in the darkness of cryo, pending their rude awakening in the crashed starship, Nemesis. Whether they remember these events is uncertain, and up to the players to decide.